The sky was different when they stepped out of the mountain. Grayer, heavier. Clouds gathered above like a warning, quiet but pressing. The wind had changed too—it carried the cold scent of ash, like a fire had burned somewhere far off.
Haruki took a deep breath and glanced back at the path behind them. The narrow opening in the rock looked smaller now, almost like it had sealed itself shut. The pendant around his neck pulsed gently, and beside it, the crystal fragment gave off a faint, reddish glow. The two lights throbbed in sync, like a heartbeat.
Ayame tightened the straps on her pack. "We need to keep moving."
Rin was quiet. She hadn't said much since they left the chamber. Her eyes stayed on the horizon, sharp and searching, like she expected something to leap from the trees.
Haruki noticed. "You okay?"
She didn't look at him. "Something's wrong. I feel it."
He nodded slowly. He felt it too, like a pair of eyes had followed them up from the depths—eyes that didn't belong to anything human.
They walked downhill in silence, taking a path that twisted through sparse trees and damp underbrush. The forest here was old. The trunks were thick and gnarled, their branches clawing at the sky like crooked fingers. No birds sang. No insects buzzed. Even the wind held its breath.
Ayame was the first to speak again. "That crystal changed something. Not just for you, Haruki. For everything."
Haruki touched the pouch where the crystal rested. "It showed me things. My father, the Ember… and the people hunting it. The Ashen Circle."
Ayame's grip tightened around her blade. "They'll come for it now. You know that, right?"
"I know."
Rin suddenly stopped walking. "Wait."
They froze. She knelt and pressed her hand to the ground, fingers brushing through the leaves and dirt.
"What is it?" Ayame asked.
"Tracks. Not human."
Haruki crouched beside her. The tracks were shallow, like claws had skimmed the surface—long, uneven marks, spaced just wide enough to belong to something walking on two legs. Or maybe something pretending to.
"They weren't here when we passed this way," Rin whispered.
Ayame's face darkened. "So we were followed."
"No," Rin said slowly. "We're being hunted."
A cold silence fell over them. Somewhere deeper in the woods, a branch snapped. Not loudly—but enough. Enough to make their hearts jump.
Haruki stood up and scanned the trees. "Let's move. Fast."
They quickened their pace, weaving through the woods without a clear path. The pendant's light dimmed as if trying to hide. The crystal throbbed faster.
They didn't speak again for a long time. Every sound in the forest seemed sharper—the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs, even their own breath. Haruki kept glancing over his shoulder, but saw nothing.
Then, just as the forest began to thin, Rin stumbled.
Haruki turned. "Rin?"
She was on one knee, breathing hard, one hand clutching her side.
"Something's—" she gasped. "Wrong. Inside."
Ayame rushed to her. "Is it an injury?"
"No. It's... something old. Like it's waking up."
Haruki knelt beside her. "Is it the crystal? Did it do something to you?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not the crystal. The place. That chamber. Being near it stirred something. I don't know what it is yet, but I've felt this feeling before. A long time ago, when I was a kid."
Haruki looked at Ayame. "You said the shrine remembers. Maybe it remembered her too."
Ayame frowned. "You think Rin's connected to all this?"
Rin looked up, her eyes burning faintly—not with fire, but with something else. Memory. Or power.
"I think I've always been," she whispered.
Before they could ask more, a shrill cry echoed through the woods behind them. It wasn't a bird. It wasn't anything natural.
It was a scream—twisted and distant, but growing closer.
Ayame stood and drew her blade. "We're out of time."
They ran.
The forest opened into a ravine, with a narrow bridge of fallen trees stretched across it. On the other side, the woods looked safer—brighter, somehow.
"Go!" Haruki shouted.
Ayame crossed first, light and fast. Rin followed, wincing with every step. Haruki came last, his hands gripping the rough bark as he scrambled across.
Halfway through, a sound tore through the air—a snarl mixed with static, like the grinding of stone on bone.
Haruki looked back.
Something moved through the trees. Not quite a shape, not fully visible. It shimmered like heat haze but darker—smoke and shadow wrapped in the form of a man.
It didn't walk. It drifted.
Its eyes were hollow. Watching.
Haruki froze.
"Haruki!" Ayame shouted. "Move!"
He turned and leapt, landing hard on the other side. Ayame pulled him up just as the shadow reached the edge of the ravine.
It didn't cross. Instead, it stopped at the edge, staring at him.
The air around it bent. The trees behind it began to blacken.
And then it whispered—though not with a voice. The sound curled inside Haruki's mind, ancient and broken.
"You carry the flame. The past will burn through you."
The thing vanished.
Haruki gasped and stumbled backward.
Rin caught his arm. "What did it say?"
He swallowed hard. "It knows. It's not just watching anymore. It's following."
Ayame looked across the ravine, her jaw tight. "We need to keep moving. We'll rest when we're far from here."
They didn't argue.
As they pressed on, Rin walked beside Haruki in silence. Then, after a while, she said, "That thing... I think I've seen it before. In dreams I thought weren't mine."
"What do you mean?"
"I think the Ashen Circle did something to me. Or maybe... I was part of them once."
Haruki stopped walking.
"You?"
She nodded. "I don't remember much. But I've always had this... hole in my memory. And now that we've seen that crystal, something is stirring. It's not just about your father anymore, Haruki. This story—it's in all of us."
Haruki looked down at the pendant and the crystal beside it. "Then we're going to need answers. Real ones."
Ayame's voice came from ahead. "And we'll only find them if we survive long enough."
They kept moving.
Behind them, the forest held its breath again. And so
mewhere, deep beneath the roots and stone, the watcher stirred. The flame had been touched. The past had awakened.
And the hunt had begun.